


Hidden Daggers, Perfectly Placed

by StandBehindHouseStark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: But knowing about Jon gives her the push to do it, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, It's mostly about Sansa killing Littlefinger, Pre-Relationship, Sansa is the girl in grey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24178261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StandBehindHouseStark/pseuds/StandBehindHouseStark
Summary: Written for Drabblefest Day 4:HiddenThe dagger was a tiny thing, easily tucked away in the sleeve of her dress, but Sansa felt it may as well have been a greatsword as she rolled it anxiously between her fingers.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 45





	Hidden Daggers, Perfectly Placed

**Author's Note:**

> I had ideas for all of the drabblefest prompts but for some reason this is the only one that wanted to come out lol. But it got me writing for the first time since November so maybe I'll get the rest done.

_“Tell me, Alayne--which is more dangerous, the dagger brandished by an enemy, or the hidden one pressed to your back by someone you never even see?”_

The dagger was a tiny thing, easily tucked away in the sleeve of her dress, but Sansa felt it may as well have been a greatsword as she rolled it anxiously between her fingers. She knew how to hold and use the thing, and being a bastard for true, Mya Stone was happy to give Alayne a few pointers on how to effectively swing it. But there was a difference between slashing through fruits, versus slashing… Gods. Sansa stashed the dagger back in her sleeve. 

That evening Sansa sat in Petyr Baelish's chambers. Next to the man who had orchestrated the entire conflict between the Lannisters and her family, betrayed her father, and sold her best friend into a brothel. The man who had spoiled her betrothal to Willas and pulled the strings so that he would be her only means of escape from King’s Landing. The man who had framed Sansa Stark for kingslaying and forced Alayne Stone to be entirely reliant upon him--to kiss him and call him father. Sansa had to school her face, hoping to not betray the rage she felt as she thought of just how deeply Littlefinger had wronged her.

There hadn’t been any grand moment of epiphany. He was sloppy around her, always letting more slip than he likely meant to, and the more he taught her to play this terrible game, the more she learned to read into the things he said. Most of the pieces were always there for her to piece together besides, but something in her mind forced her to repress it all. But when Myranda revealed that Ned Stark’s bastard was the new Lord Commander of the Watch, Sansa realized she was tired of lying to herself, of pretending Baelish had freed her from her cage and not shunted her into one of his own design. She had an out. Jon could help her if she could just reach the Wall.

He was speaking, Sansa knew, but the ringing in her ears drowned out whatever it was he was saying, and he was too caught up in his anecdote to notice her hands shaking in her sleeves. She hated the man, but bringing herself to kill him was a different story. Then her mind flooded. She felt the ghost of chainmail fists beating her, she saw Jeyne Poole’s face, saw the sun reflect off of Ice just before it came down on her father’s head, saw her mother’s body at the bottom of a river and a Direwolf’s head sewn onto her brother’s. After that her hand moved of its own accord, and Petyr Baelish was bleeding out on the floor.

There was no time to dwell on that. She threw on her grey cloak and began her journey to Castle Black. Soon she would be back with her pack.


End file.
